Her Guardian
by WintermoonQueen
Summary: "No," he responds. His voice deep, rough. She is not a monster—she is his beloved Queen, his creator. "Bad people are monsters. They hurt you." (Marshmallow's POV).


I've wanted to write something from Marshmallow's POV for a long time and I finally had a chance to. Also, I'm probably one of those rare fans who favor Marshmallow over Olaf XD

Quick warning - this story is dark.

 **Disclaimer:** Frozen and all of its characters belong to Disney.

* * *

 **Her Guardian**

She was hurting.

He can feel it in the frigidness of the air, can see it in the way the ice cracks an angry red, threatening to shatter the palace.

To shatter her happiness.

Her hope.

Her _freedom_.

His icy claws curl inward, flexing as he watches her pace the middle of her empty ballroom. The chandelier quivers above them, glittering dangerously as it catches the last of the fiery rays of the sun before dark clouds swallow it.

It starts in flurries. The storm is gentle, but dark and the snow begins to fall harder.

"Don't feel." she murmurs, her eyes downcast and her arms wrapping around her middle. He can see the frozen tear tracks on her pale cheeks.

"Don't feel. Don't feel," she continues her mantra as though it's a prayer, but her wide eyes, filled with fear and regret, say otherwise.

She's pleading.

She wants it to end.

She's groaning.

She knows she's helpless.

She's crying.

She yearns comfort—a comfort that she knows she'll never have.

He feels all of this, all of her. He hears her fears, feels her stress, her pain.

He doesn't know the cause of her distress, but now he understands the reason for his existence.

She lets out one last cry and spins on her heels and everything is falling apart too fast.

She feels her world crashing and within the cracks of her ice, he sees the cause of it all.

He feels her shaking and the storm within him quivers with her ragged breathing. He feels nothing but her fear and his own fury.

"Monsters," he growls.

She is now on her knees, her hands curled into fists against the sides of her head. Her energy is spent on the last of her control.

"Monsters," he growls again. It's snowing inside now and he feels stronger.

His Queen lifts her head to peer up at him. The tears have stopped, but he still feels her distress.

"No," she chokes and shakes her head, swallowing before fresh tears begin to cascade down her cheeks again. " _I'm_ the monster."

He hesitates, keeping distance from her—granting her the space she needs—but he's lost. Helpless. He wants to curl around her, to provide her a snowy cocoon—if only she could feel safe, wanted.

" _No_ ," he responds. His voice deep, rough. She is not a monster—she is his beloved Queen, his creator. "Bad people are monsters. They hurt you."

She stands and watches him with wide eyes—it's as if she's looking at him for the first time. He doesn't move when she takes a step toward him. He doesn't flinch when she reaches out with a hand. Instead, he kneels on one knee and looks into her bright, azure eyes.

The color reminds him of ice. Beautiful, cold, and serene. She feels like home.

He wants to set her free.

But he can't.

It's the fault of the monsters.

 _All their fault_.

Lifting his hand, he curls the icicle of his claw and caresses her cheek.

It is then that he vows to protect her freedom.

To protect _her._

* * *

She's pacing again. All he can hear is her accelerating breath and the cracking of ice.

She fears that she will shatter along with her palace.

* * *

A few days later, she startles him and he is baffled by her query.

"What is your name?" she asks. She's standing at his feet, her neck craning so she can look up at him.

He wants to say that he doesn't know—that he doesn't understand, but he thinks of another like him. He was smaller and joyful. _He_ had a name: Olaf.

Then he remembers, in his memory of rage as he chased the three of _them_ off the side of the mountain, that he _does_ have a name.

"Marshmallow," he replies and she nods.

It's faint, the smile that blooms along her beautiful, pale features.

He realizes that it's the only time he will ever see her smile.

* * *

She hasn't slept. The fear is overwhelming her. He knows she's growing tired of fighting it.

So when she finally closes her eyes and relaxes, he watches over her.

He vows he won't let anyone touch her.

* * *

She's crying again. Her body curls inward as she tries to hide her tears from him. He can't see her face.

He shifts toward her and starts to curl a hand around her but she tries to push him away. Her attempts are half-hearted and weak.

"My Queen," he places his hands back at his sides. She wants space. "Why do you cry?"

She sniffs, wiping the half-frozen tears from her cheeks with the palm of her hand.

She grows quiet for some time, wrapping her arms around herself. Her shoulders hunch. He despises the monsters for making her feel defensive.

"I need Anna," she chokes. " _I need my sister_."

A flash of memories— _her_ memories—cross his vision, and he understands.

The walls of the palace are cracking again, in unison with her soft cries. It's not the first time, he feels, that she wishes for death.

Then, he hears _them_.

The monsters are at the stairs, armed. They mean to kill. To end _her_.

He turns and blocks the doorway, separating them from _her_.

She collapses behind him, wailing her sister's name.

 _Anna._

 _Anna._

But her sister won't come, because she's gone, struck through the heart—frozen. Dead.

His Queen crumbles at the weight of this knowledge and she orders him to stand down.

He feels himself begin to melt as her blood paints the shattering ice.

He roars at the monsters when she screams.

But when she goes silent and her bright eyes start to fade, blood trickles from the corner of her mouth, she whispers, " _I'm sorry, Anna_."

* * *

 **A/N:** So a bit of a twist and an alternate ending there. I hope the emotion all came through, because this is probably one of my more emotional pieces.

Please leave a review and let me know what you think!


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